


Odd Eye

by TGIntentX



Series: A Peace of Mind is Hardly Earned [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Detective Comics (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Police, Character Study, Gen, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TGIntentX/pseuds/TGIntentX
Summary: We take a closer look inside the mind of James Gordon Jr.; son of GCPD's Commissioner Gordon, a psychopath. How the events that led him to his incarceration all started when he sets his eyes on a handsome police officer with a charming smile.
Series: A Peace of Mind is Hardly Earned [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1241309
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Odd Eye

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm taking a break from writing [The Farewell Contract](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21600550/chapters/51505417) to put out this piece of work as a means of stalling. Hope you will still enjoy.
> 
> This fic takes place after the events of [Violent Delights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718698/chapters/34018343)

James breathes out slowly, his gaze kept straight ahead. His hair unkempt, his glasses skewed, and his calf bleeding through the orange jumpsuit.

He turns his head to the guard who brought him to the interrogation room. “Shouldn't we have stopped by the infirmary first?” he asked, gesturing to his leg. “I'm bleeding through my suit.”

The guard doesn't react causing James to scoff, returning his gaze to the space in front of him. “No sense of propriety...”

He'll be sure to give the guard the same cut the next time there's a fight.

The door to the interrogation room opens to reveal a stern woman in a dress suit. She sits across from James, unfazed about the dangerous criminal.

“I am Director Waller,” she introduced. “I'm here to see whether you would be a good fit for a government program for inmates like you.”

James gives a side smile. “Nice to meet you Director. I'd shake your hand but as you can see...” he gestures his hands, handcuffed to the metal table. “What does this government program of yours do?”

“That depends if you meet the right fit.” Waller said as she gets right onto business. “James Gordon Jr., 23 years old. First year researcher at Gotham University's Department of Pathology Medical Center. Son of Commissioner James Gordon of the GCPD and Barbara Kane. Brother of GCPD's IT specialist Barbara Gordon.” She glances up momentarily to see James' reaction and continues. “Involved in bombing the medical center and the GCPD HQ. Attempted to bomb a high school and a convention center. Drugging cult members and a cop, kidnapped your own sister - ”

“If I'd known this would be an interview I would have worn my better jumpsuit,” James slouches back in his chair as much as the chains cuffed to the table allow him. “I guess I'm doing poorly. You and I both know what happened and what I have been brought in for so you can skip the formalities and get to the point.”

“The program's participants is not for the typical inmates of Belle Reve. It's highly selective for specialized individuals,” Waller closes the case file and folds her hands on top of it. “Just reading the case file doesn't tell me the whole picture.”

“Does my dad know you're here? Attempting to analyze me?” James gives a sigh. “When I was younger, the doctors wanted to give me a P.C.L. test. Those tests are only given out at Arkham. Many have tried, even the Arkham Asylum's director came to visit.”

“If I wanted to psychoanalyze you I would have brought one of the program's participant with me on this visit,” said Waller. “She has all of the degrees and is one of the brightest minds in her field.”

“No one is actually able to understand themselves completely otherwise we would easily be able to fix ourselves and our flaws. And I assure you, Amanda,” James gave a snide smile. “There is nothing about me that needs fixing.”

“I doubt that,” Waller doesn't seem fazed. “But that's not why I'm here for. You blew up a bomb and drugged a GCPD detective, targeting him specifically. You even hurt your sister just to get to him.”

“Why not?” James calmly said. “Why do anything at all? Dad and his partner interrogated me about it as well but they didn't get anything else. Should we even have this conversation without my lawyer present?”

“I assure you, Gordon, that this is an informal visit,” said Waller. “Consider this as a favor to your father. There won't be any additional charges filed against you for this conversation.”

“I might confess to murders and where I bury the bodies,” James pointed out. “Barbara would like that. This might be a setup and your word means nothing to me as another additional charges would be tacked on.”

“Gordon, I am the director of Belle Reve Penitentiary. I have better things to do than waste my time to trick criminals to confessing crimes they may or may not have committed.”

James sits up in his chair as he considers Waller's offer. He makes a show with his eyes, assessing Waller for any emotions or weaknesses. His eyes moved over to stare at the one-way mirror behind Waller. After a while and not able to find what he was looking for his eyes goes back to Waller, meeting her stern unfazed gaze.

“You're trying to find something from me aren't you?” A knowing grin spreads across James' face. “And I think I might know what.”

“Humor me.”

* * *

_My dad and my sister are both do-gooders that make me puke a little just from thinking about it. Their jobs kept them busy but not too busy enough to keep an eye on me. I wasn't allowed to do as I please so I have to be creative to get out of their sight. An opportunity presented itself and I found myself in another city._

_And that's when I met him._

* * *

James Gordon Jr. is originally from Chicago before moving to Gotham after his dad became the Commissioner of the GCPD. No matter which city he moves to, he is never fazed of the poverty and crime around him. The darkness and the grim, constant everywhere he goes. It doesn't make him numb but rather draws out his desire to hurt. Blüdhaven is no different.

Within one week he gutted at least two homeless people for approaching him and slashed one bus driver who had the galls to call him four eyes. It doesn't matter who he hurts, rich or poor, young or old. Just give him an excuse and he will give them his knife.

“This really doesn't go with your shoes, pal.”

Like now as James watches the cop arresting the man who attempted to mug him a few minutes ago. A stolen prey, replaced. A perfect opportunity with the cop's back is turned as he was cuffing the would-be-mugger. The box cutter feels heavy in his pocket, his hand twitches to take it out and stab.

And that's when the cop turns around and his breath hitched in his chest.

Bright eyes and a charming smile straight out of those annoying holiday cards only it serves to make him feel something foreign. Hair windswept from the run to get to them, a strand fell just barely over his eye causing James to follow that motion. And when there couldn't be more, the cop spoke.

“Are you okay?”

James' eyes fall to the cop's lips from the words spoken from and he couldn't help but stared. He forces himself to take in every detail of the pretty cop and commits everything to memory. The gear he carries on his belt, the creases on his uniform, the color of his sock.

An emotion stirs inside something that he couldn't place. His mouth opens to answer him when someone interrupts.

“Dick, are you – ? Never mind, dispatch. We're good here.”

A female cop enters the ally to meet with them, forcing James to snap out of it. He forces his gaze to be neutral as the cop who interrupted them joins them and takes hold of the mugger.

“Well, you must be feeling better, partner,” she said.

“Whew,” the cop readjusted his hat that fell when he tackled the mugger. “Man, I'm gonna relapse if I do that again! Bet you'd never guess this guy has been flat on his back sick for the past week, would you?” Readjusted, the cop turns to James. “Are you okay?”

It made James freeze up a little but he managed to answer. “I'm fine.”

This made the cop smile bigger and that foreign feeling rose in his chest. His thoughts were interrupted when the female cop came into his view, blocking the pretty boy cop with a handsome smile.

“Would you mind taking a statement telling us what happened in detail?” she asked. “We need the information to book him.”

James numbly nodded. He followed them out of the alley way to the main streets.

“Amy, I'm going to take this guy downtown. Would you be okay here?”

“That's fine, Dick. I finish up here and continue with my patrol.”

Officer Dick. A bright blue focal point shining in the dark.

After that meeting James made an effort to catch a glance of the pretty boy cop. He frequents the places the officer goes for patrol or his break. Most of the time it's boring as nothing really exciting happens. Occasionally he found himself awestruck with the way the cop moves. The cop moves like a breeze, striking fast and untouchable. The way he moves and acts, he's far beyond everyone.

His other half.

“Gordon!”

James looked up. Dr. Simon Hurt had addressed him. James had applied for a selective program at Blüdhaven University for the summer and was placed under Dr. Hurt's mentorship. The program would allow him to experience first–hand on patient care and escape from Gotham, away from the watchful eyes of his dad and sister.

“I know it is the summer but this does not give you permission to daydream or laze,” Dr. Hurt scolded. “If you were to continue such dalliance, I would suggest that you withdraw from the program or else suffer from a less than stellar review on your transcript.”

“My apologies, doctor,” James responded. “It will not happen again.”

Dr. Hurt narrows his eyes. “See to it that it does not,” he said. “Our profession does not allow us to be distracted lest of all among their presence. We will be meeting a patient of mine, he is originally from Gotham just like you. Put your best appearance forward and don't give him any reason to be upset of you.”

“Yes doctor.”

An odd thing about the doctor is his clientele. Most of his patients have some sort of characteristics that sets them aside from the average joe. Dr. Hurt provides various services from check ups, therapy session, and even surgery.

James follows the doctor to a high rise building in the heart of the city. They entered the lobby and was greeted full of people coming and going to go gambling, partying, or seeing a show. He thought this building is only for business but gambling business.

Blüdhaven used to be well known for their whaling industry but when business went down, the city turns to a different source of income; gambling. The following years went quickly and Blüdhaven prospered to become known as the Las Vegas of the East Coast.

Dr. Hurt showed his clearance to the security guards and they pass through without trouble. They went all the way to the top floor and were greeted by another set of security, directing them to the office where Dr. Hurt's patient is waiting for them.

“Took you long enough, doc.”

A man in a smart business suit with strong facial features along with emitting a menacing aura even with his laid back posture. James can tell he is definitely Dr. Hurt's clientele.

“I don't usually make house calls, Roman,” Dr. Hurt puts his medical case down next to the pristine white sofa. He immediately takes out his medical tools needed. “Especially on such late notice.”

“Well, what do you think I'm paying you for?” Roman waved off his concern. “At least you're here.” His eyes flicked over to James. “Whose the square?”

“This is James,” Dr. Hurt introduced with a slight tilt of his head. “He will be accompanying me for the summer as part of the mentorship program at the university.”

“Wow doc. Didn't know you were into those kinds of things. Have you gone soft?”

“I'm as sharp as a knife.”

James stood to the side as he watches Dr. Hurt does his checkup with his patient. The doctor does his job efficiently all the while engaging in small talk with the patient. It is possible that Dr. Hurt is involved with the patient's business, knowing him for years.

“I wasn't aware you would be in Blüdhaven,” Dr. Hurt said, while taking Roman's blood pressure. “You mentioned you couldn't stand the smell.”

“I'm not going to stay for long,” Roman answered. “Got business here and it's off back to Gotham. There's been some set backs, Victor said he got held up.”

“Nothing you couldn't handle,” Dr. Hurt wrote down his results on his file. “Just do the usual. Anything I need to be aware of?”

“Nothing much except maybe stay away from Near-Side for a while. Vic's been a little vicious ever since that run-in with that cop. Said he's been feeling a little be slicey.”

“I'll be sure to keep that in mind.” Dr. Hurt sighed, putting away his apparatus. “And I suppose you want me to take a look at him?”

“If it's not too much trouble, doc,” Roman stands. “He's in the next room, I drugged him earlier so he's more amenable when you arrive. No anesthesia, don't want to waste it on his mistake.”

James was about to follow them to the next room when Dr. Hurt stopped him. “This may be a bit delicate so your presence is not needed. You can wait here, I will be done shortly.”

The two left leaving James alone in the spacious office. He takes a quick glance and noticed a couple of things. The office is decorated not for style or use but as a display of wealth and prestige. Roman's main operations is in Gotham so the office only contain the few essentials that allow him to do his work. He narrows his eyes at the line of decorative masks hanging on the wall above the sofa. The masks look to be from indigenous tribe origins based on the facial expressions and style. This shows at least some of the owner's preference in taste.

He goes over to the desk for the laptop, not locked. He sees line items with numbers indicating dollars. Not his forte with the limited time he has.

He got to the couch just in time for the two to come back in along with a third person. It must be Victor. A man with maniacal eyes that immediately targets James. But James wasn't cowed as he returned that stare with an indifferent look.

“Try not to do any extraneous activity,” Dr. Hurt said to Victor as he moves to pack up his tools. “But knowing you, you wouldn't wait.”

“It's my job, doctor,” Victor snarled. “Just as you have done yours.”

“Then you can stitch yourself back,” Finished packing Dr. Hurt gestures James to follow. “I may be a doctor but it is not my job to treat stupidity.”

Angered, Victor made a move to approach but was intercepted by Roman who quickly blocked his way. “Thank you for coming in, doc.”

“Of course, Roman. My... other services are available should you feel the need.”

“Of course, doc.” Roman glances at James, giving a quick once-over. His eyes settled on his face and frowned. “You look familiar... have we met before?”

“This is the first time we met, sir,” James carefully answered. “I'm originally from Gotham, perhaps we may have crossed paths.”

“Possibly...”

James was saved from any future questions when Dr. Hurt calls out for him. As he quickly left he could feel manic eyes following him until he got to the elevator. When the elevator door closes, he lets out a sigh of relief that he didn't know he was holding.

“Their presence is intimidating, isn't it?” Dr. Hurt commented. “I guess you have already picked up by now the type of people I work with.”

“You used my first name instead of my last,” James turns his head to Dr. Hurt. “It's so that Roman would not make the connection easily. About my father. And you also use his first name so that I won't make the connection to his full identity.”

“The fact that you were named after your father is beyond me. It doesn't make things easier for you. But you're nothing like your father, I knew it from day one.”

“Fay beyond that.” James turns away, eyes straight to the elevator door. A sudden thought crossed his mind. “Why me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why did you choose me for the mentorship program?” James fully turns to Dr. Hurt. “You know who my father is and yet you choose me and took me to view your practice. Are you not afraid?”

Dr. Hurt gives him a considering look. “Are you?” he redirected the question. “You may have fooled everyone with your appearance but there is more to you than meets the eye. Anyone who knows or have an inkling of your true nature will not live happily.”

“That's why I choose you for the program.” Dr. Hurt gives him a knowing grin, his eyes dance with ecstatic. “I read your paper, you wrote your paper as though you yourself lack empathy. Many would be shock of how can your type of thinking be allowed in the field. Your theory of empathy being the clutch of humanity is sound. My theory is about pain; the best of us are driven by pain, powered by tragedy. Fall into the hell of hells. And if you are strong enough, crawl back to your body. All it will take is a little blood. That is the only way to reach the fullest potential. Roman had shaped his empire from pain, he would get rid of obstacles or turn them into his weapons.”

James eyes slightly widened at the doctor's conclusion. He never thought someone would understand. Dr. Hurt is known to be strict and somewhat theatrical but to understand on a certain level and accept it gives him a new found respect for the good doctor.

* * *

_“What was on Sionis' computer?”_

_“Really Amanda? That's what you took away from this?”_

_“It's Director Waller, Gordon.”_

_“I wouldn't know,_ director _. That's a_ bizarre _thing to ask.”_

* * *

Dr. Hurt was kind enough to lend him a copy of his thesis about pain and trauma. Unpublished. It was an interesting read.

A knock on his door had him get up from his comfortable seat to answer. He was surprised of the person who came to his residence.

Officer Dick Grayson.

“Good afternoon, sir. I'm Officer Grayson and this is Officer Malloy,” Dick shows Jame's his credentials. His partner behind him was not the same as the last time. “Is this Mr. Ben Wolff's residence?”

A mask falls over James' as he answered with an air of confusion and concern. “Yes this is Ben Wolff's residence. Is something wrong?”

“Sir, do you know where is Mr. Wolff?” Dick asked. “He hasn't shown up to work for the past week. Also who are you and what is your relationship to Mr. Wolff?”

It is about time that the cops showed up but they won't find anything since James is careful and meticulous. It goes according to plan if he plays his card straight.

“My name is James,” he replied. “Ben and I went to the same high school together. Ben lets me stay here for the summer to take some classes. It's convenient to cut down my commute time and save on rent money. Officer, you said that Ben was missing?”

“Yes,” Dick answered. “His work place called and said he hasn't shown up for work, hasn't answered his phone either. Do you mind if we come in and take a look around? Also if you don't mind answering a few of our questions?”

“Please,” James steps to the side to let the cops in. “Come in.”

He played his part of a commonplace man. Pointed out where Ben's room is located, handing over his phone so they can confirm his alibi, civil and pleasant.

To his delight it was Dick who interviewed him while his partner took a look around. He immediately studies the officer in front of him and couldn't help be caught up by the man's beauty. The way each strands of hair parted naturally over his forehead, the creases from a frown forming, and even a speck of lint on his uniform. All those details are so etched out clearly, it took all he had to stop himself from reaching out.

Beauty so delicate it would break in his hand.

James did his best to play the part of the concerned friend, answering questions earnestly he can fake it. He had already cover all the tracks and cleaned up the evidence. Luckily for him it didn't take long for the other officer to come back after not able to find anything.

“He wasn't that nice when we were younger,” James confessed. “When we were younger, Ben took my glasses and buried them in the sandbox. Luckily there was no damage and my sister pushed him in the pond for it. We were all just kids and now he was as nice as could be. Funny the way some people take a while to grow into the people they're going to be.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Dick said. “While other people never changed. Thanks for your cooperation, James. You mentioned you'll only be here for the summer?”

“Only for the summer,” James confirmed. “After that I'll be heading back home. I live on the west side, actually. I'm already taking too much of Ben's space.”

“Well if we have anymore questions, we'll let you know,” Dick stands and heads for the door where his partner is waiting. “We'll keep you posted if we find anything.”

“Thank you. I hope you find him.”

When the police officers finally left, the mask immediately disappears. With an indifferent face he goes to the hidden locked room where the owner has been kept.

“Hey Ben, you'll never guess who just came over to visit.”

* * *

“...”

_“What's with that face Director Waller? You did say that I'm free to confess however I want.”_

* * *

James' thoughts kept wandering to the police officer that it has led him to find every information that he can about him. Everything from who his parents are to what school he graduated from. He made sure to keep his obsession hidden from the good doctor, though he has a feeling that Dr. Hurt already knows.

They had visited Roman's office again to treat Victor's wounds. Victor was in a bad mood, spewing angry threats at the absent man in question while getting his side stitched up.

“If I ever see that cop again I'm gonna rip his arms out of his sockets,” Victor growled, slammed his fist on the table. “I don't care how pretty or how fast he moves. I will break him!”

“You're taking this much more personally than usual,” Dr. Hurt commented as he methodically stitched Victor's side. He lightly slapped Victor on the shoulder, admonishing him to stop moving. “Don't you think this has gone on long enough?”

James watches Dr. Hurt work from his position on the sofa. By now Dr. Hurt had trusted James enough to be present when dealing with Victor. Showing he can handle and not be intimidated by the dangerous man whose getting medical treatment on the office desk.

Victor Zsasz is decorated with scars all over his body. Sadistic and psychopathic, most of the scars are tally marks he made on himself for each of his victims.

And everyone is going their business like it was an ordinary Tuesday.

“He's just upset that he wasn't able to kill that pretty boy,” Roman said from his position on the sofa next to James. Said owner of the office wasn't fazed from the medical treatment taking place in front of him, even nonchalantly reading a magazine. “I'll be heading to Gotham first while Vic finishes up here. I can't stay here all the time babysitting you, I have plans in place for my city.”

“Ye of little faith,” Victor grinned. He immediately hissed at a particular stretch of pain from the stitch being made. “Be gentle, doc.”

A glare was directed at Dr. Hurt who doesn't look a bit amused. “Really? You cut yourself willingly for the high but this makes you want to complain?”

“That's why I opted you to forgo the anesthetic,” Roman teased. “Hopefully it'll make him rethink his life's choices. Mirror House is not going to run itself when the manager is ruining himself.”

“Oh yes, I do love to be a servant for the rich who don't know what to do with their wealth and ended up auctioning for bad guy's toys,” Victor said with as much deadpanned and sarcasm in his tone. “You know just how to punish me, knowing I would rather cut them up and strung them up by their insides than be there making small talk.”

“And you're doing an amazing job.”

They were clearly talking about less than legal business as James file this little tidbit away. He doesn't show his interest or concern, keeping his face indifferent. Occasionally Roman and Victor glance his way to see any sort of reaction but found none.

“So James,” Roman started, angles his body to him. “How is the mentorship going with our good doctor? Do you like it?”

“It has been interesting,” James said. “Dr. Hurt has been knowledgeable and hands-on. I was able to experience and learn new things because of him.”

Roman nodded. “That's good, kid. Learn and experience while you can. Dr. Hurt may be strict and dramatic even, but he always knows what's best. He's so picky too, how do you even get mixed up with him?”

“Because James has undeveloped potential,” Dr. Hurt said, not looking up from his treatment. “I always believed the best of us can be brought out with the right push. James just needs that final step to achieve what he could be.”

“And what makes you think I have not already done so? Taking that final step, I mean.”

His response causes everyone to look up, even Dr. Hurt. James doesn't usually talk much in their presence, only answering for pleasantries. But here in this room with just the four of them it felt like he is in a room with his colleagues or seniors. Even the sadistic killer Victor Zsasz.

Finishing up with Victor, Dr. Hurt approaches James causing him to stand up from the couch. Dr. Hurt's gaze is stern and unwavering. “You've taken many _steps_ ,” he said. “Your skin itches as that aggressive feeling hums in your blood, lashing out with no purpose or end goal. That emptiness you feel where empathy should be is nothing that needs to be solved. An epiphany must happen and you must perceive it beyond ordinary sight.”

James frowned, confused. Even Victor is confused when he called out. “Are you high or something, doc?”

“I am sound of mind, Mr. Zsasz.”

“Well said, doc. And I have just the thing,” Roman gets up to retrieve something from his desk. “Let's give James an opportunity to experience the other side and let him make the final decision.” He goes over to James and hands him a black vintage mask. “Knew there was something more to you then that square look if doc can see you for what you are.”

James held that mask in his hands, staring into the eye holes as it beckons him. It was as though he could feel his heavy breath from behind the mask, seeing and feeling the other of what it could be. He looks back at Dr. Hurt and sees him with a proud smile. That's when he knew;

Dr. Simon Hurt, a physician and psychologist obsessed with traumas.

* * *

_“Would you object to my calling you “mother”? It would help me concentrate with the story.”_

_“Over my dead body, Gordon.”_

* * *

Few nights later James finds himself at Harbor House, an old banquet hall that once catered to Blüdhaven's upper crust. Many years ago the banquet hall hosted a charity ball when the earthquake hit. Part of the roof collapsed and sealed the partygoers in. when the place caught fire, there was no way out. One half of the crowd trampled the other half, before being burned alive.

At the entrance he lets the guard scan his invitation card and puts on his gas mask. Roman was gracious to allow James to see his Mirror House operation; an underground auction that sells items that once belonged to notorious criminals across the country to the highest bidder. The auctions never stayed in one place, hosting their little get-together at sites where nasty things went down. Cult type thing.

He steps into the big hall filled with many rich people dressed to the nines wearing a similar gas mask. They don't seem to mind the decayed and ruined halls, even complimenting the surroundings as aesthetics.

Somehow it turns James' stomach to know these people are a different breed. These people aren't pretending. They're not in it for a cheap thrill. Rich enough that they have no idea what to do with their money.

He sees Victor up on the stage wearing a similar gas mask as he was in charge and overseeing the operation. He was glaring at something in particular. James follows his line of sight and finally sees him.

Police officer Dick Grayson.

He was recognizable even with the same gas mask and presentable attire as everyone else. The cop that gave the sadistic/masochist killer grief for not killing his prey. If Dick is here then the cops would be here as well.

And he was right. The next few moments passed in blur that involved a gas attack, a battle showdown, and an all out brawl followed by a wild goose chase. James found himself a hiding behind some crates with an unconscious Dick Grayson. Loud sirens blared as police arrested attendees of the event. Knowing their status and wealth, they would not be a jail for long.

James stares down at Dick with hooded eyes, thrilling to be looking over him. He had pulled Dick's body to safety after Dick had fell off the roof from fighting against Victor. They are hiding where they couldn't be found.

Hiding where they would never find the body.

His hands itches to close around Dick's throat. Heart pounding louder as his hands get closer. Eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. Bruises and cuts courtesy of Victor and the attendees did nothing to diminish the officer's beauty. Weak and vulnerable to allow James to do anything to his obsession.

Weak.

His hand retracts back, scowling at his action. That's right, Officer Dick Grayson is weak. He has the authority and power and yet refused to abuse it, using it to protect the weak and serve justice.

And yet genuinely weak and he triumphs with a smile, taking down men who have no limits or regards to human life. The opposite of his spectrum, his challenger. A man with so much conscience and empathy who would never waver to do the right thing.

But this man is not ready yet. He will wait until both of them to take the final step. When Officer Dick finally evolves, he will drag him down all the way to his side of life.

And he will never know what's coming.

* * *

“Then I left, didn't do anything to him if that's what you were wondering,” James Gordon Jr. finishes his tale. “Later I left for that clinical trials thing and just in time too because Barbara had been looking for me.”

Waller doesn't say anything. Throughout his retelling, she was impassive and stern. Doesn't show her disgust and judgment behind her stonewall mask. It's something that James would have admired for a later time.

“Do you still feel that way?” Waller asked.

James shrugged. “Who knows,” he answered.

Right now he's tired. He hadn't gone without rest, his mouth parched and his throat dry. His eyes droopy and the cut on his leg has crusted turning into a scab.

“I think we've heard enough today.”

“Does that mean I pass?”

“With flying colors. Welcome to Task Force X. You are officially a part of something much bigger than you. Learn to appreciate it. Or die trying.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated.


End file.
